His Butler, Suspicious
by Brasta Septim
Summary: On a rather nasty morning, Ciel Phantomhive has a rather unexpected- and important- visitor. What is the richest nobleman in England doing at his manor?


**His Butler, Suspicious**

**Chapter 1: March 23****rd****, 1890.**

It was a long, grueling, dreadful morning at the Phantomhive Estate. Rain was pouring down upon the great lawn in torrents, and wind blew hard enough to rattle the glass in the windowpanes. With the addition of angry grey storm clouds, it seemed it was going to be a perfectly abysmal day.

However, nasty weather was certainly not enough to stop Ciel Phantomhive. No, this morning the young Earl of Phantomhive was hard at work, poring over business ledgers on his desk while sipping his favorite breakfast tea. It was in this condition the young nobleman remained until he heard a loud knocking on his door. "May I come in, young master?" issued a deep, clipped voice from behind the door.

"Enter." said the young Earl, not looking up from his work. With that, the door stepped open to reveal Sebastian, Ciel's loyal, perpetually black-clad butler. Ciel looked up for a moment. "Well, what is it?"

"I'm here to inform you that we have a visitor this morning…. and rather unexpected too."

Ciel sighed, a bit annoyed. "What sort of lunatic would show up in this kind of weather?"

Sebastian bowed briefly. "Lord Phillip Laurent, owner of the Laurent Trading Company…"

Ciel's eyes went wide. The Laurent Company was the largest general mercantile company in the British Empire; they had offices and warehouses in nearly every port from London to Shanghai and back. For the past 60 years, the Laurents had dominated every other merchant company business in England. So what on earth was Phillip Laurent, the 16-year-old owner of the Company, doing at his manor?

Sebastian seemed to read his thoughts. "I don't know why he's here, either. Shall I show him in anyway, young master?"

"Oh, very well." Ciel groaned. He should be happy about this… but he was suspicious, too. What was he here for? A business deal? The Queen's orders? Or just trying to get information out of him? Not that the young lord would have trouble; while the Phantomhives had a tight grip on the underworld, the Laurent's money could loosen the most secretive tongues.

Either way, it was an honour to have him here, despite his misgivings. Especially since Lord Laurent was a Marquis- a step higher than him on the nobility scale. With a sigh, Ciel looked up at Sebastian. "Get Finn, Mey-Rin, and Bard working; we don't want to give Lord Laurent a bad first impression." Even Ciel, haughty as he was, knew how to be courteous if it was to his advantage. He would gain nothing by alienating him this early; a good chessmaster never made a move without sizing up his opponent first.

"Yes, my lord." With a slight bow, the butler disappeared out the door in a flash of black.

* * *

Lord Phillip Laurent, Fourth Marquis of Chesborough and former Count of Amiens, was waiting patiently on the veranda of the Phantomhive Mansion. From what he could see, it was a decent bit of property, even by his standards. Though the Laurents had property in just about every country in Europe, Phillip mostly spent his time up at his townhouse in Westminster- close to his company offices. Like Ciel, Phillip was a shrewd young capitalist- though his own company outclassed Funtom Co. in sheer expansion. He was close to the Queen as well... though for different reasons. While the Phantomhives and the Trancys worked in the underworld, his family worked on the surface as the Queen's hawk. It was his job to pay off the right people, to keep the wrong people under his steady watch. If they made a move... well, then it was the Phantomhives' job.

After waiting nearly a quarter of an hour, Phillip heard a voice nearby. "The young master is ready for you, your excellency."

"Well, I should certainly hope so." Phillip said with a subtly threatening smile as he turned towards the Phantomhives' sable-garbed butler. Keeping his ivory-handles cane tucked under his arm, he followed the butler up the steps of the Phantomhive manor. The butler opened the door wide open for him. "Enter, your excellency." he said with a faintly mocking smile.

Drawing his dark blue greatcoat about himself, Phillip stepped inside the warmth of the mansion.


End file.
